Sacred Lie
by Artemisdesari
Summary: Cassidy comes to a decision, Castiel confronts an archangel, and Sam comes up with a plan. Second in the Hand of Sorrow: Angel Wars, arc.
1. Chapter 1

_This should have been up yesterday, however, due to circumstances beyond my control (my landlady) I had no internet. It gave me time to catch up. It also put me onto a complete Atlantis kick and I procrastinated. I am remorseless, I had forgotten how much I love that show. Anyway, this is yet another one inspired by a Disturbed track, this time Sacred Lie, it seemed appropriate to the story line._

_**Disclaimer:** I still don't own it, I doubt I will ever own it, but I like to play with it. Mr Kripke, I'm borrowing it and I will give everything that is yours back. I'll keep Cassidy, Peter and Daniel though.  
_

Sacred Lie.

_**My conviction is stronger today****  
As I fight to uncover your sacred lie****  
And the fear isn't going away  
As the soldiers still die**_

They have been on the road now for almost a week, driving across the country and trying to come up with some form of plan which will enable them to stop the angels from wiping out mankind. Dean is short tempered, Sam is worried and Castiel, despite the show that he put on in front of Raphael and Cassidy, is still afraid.

Of all the archangels, Raphael is the one that Castiel knows the most about, even more than the leaders Michael and Gabriel, because Raphael was always the gentlest of them. He has always been known for taking a softer view of humans than the other angels, even than Castiel before the angel fully understood the how intricate they were, how they were more than simply the mudmonkeys that Uriel so despised. In raising Dean from Hell he was shown the true beauty of the human soul and even though he knows, now, that it was all manipulation and lies on the part of his superiors, Castiel is truly thankful for what they have shown him.

It does not stop him from being afraid, because even if he knows that Raphael is the gentlest of all the archangels, he is still far more powerful than Castiel had ever hoped to be. Castiel is also beginning to suspect that the answers that they are searching for can be found in that particular archangel rather than in any of the books that he and Sam have been frantically searching through as the angels build up to their next attack, as they decide on the next town to destroy and their next collection of victims. He thinks that the answers to all of their questions can be found in Raphael, including why he was chosen for this task in the first place.

Which is the thing that Castiel does not understand. Michael's words on the battlefield at the fall of Lucifer implied that his action had been part of their plan, that his role had been important in the whole thing. From the weaker angel's experience, however, everything that was done to him was real, he really disobeyed, he was really punished, really tortured and really hunted down. Castiel finds it fortunate that when Dean questioned him on the matter, he believed the angel was as confused as he.

They have taken the risk of stopping in a larger town than they normally would, Castiel does not know the name of it, does not really care when it gets right down to it as he has other concerns beyond their precise location, both the brothers have been driving for twenty four solid hours, Dean only allowing Sam the chance to drive the last hour when he almost fell asleep at the wheel. Now the brothers are asleep and Castiel is studying the same book that he has been looking at since Cassidy left it in his possession.

Something is bothering him, however, a feeling on the very edge of his awareness and it bring a frown to a face that, even with the emotions he is experiencing, usually remains impassive. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on it a little more, is startled when Dean begins to snore softly across the room and Sam begins to do the same not long after that. It is distracting and he leaves the room, settling himself on the quiet on the tarmac beside the Impala, using the car to shield him from the view of anyone nearby, and closes his eyes again, leaning back against the cool metal door.

It takes a while for him to place the feeling, it has been so long since he has felt it and this sensation is far less than it was when he was at the height of his power and grace, such as that was, Castiel was never more than a mediocre soldier at best. Nevertheless, this feeling fills him with dread and it is intensifying with each passing moment. This is the way that hundreds of angels feel when they are marching on a place that they intend to destroy and it is with horror that he realises that this town is their next target.

He is on his feet and pushing the door open before he has even registered that he has moved, does not care that the door bangs against the wall or that both the brothers are violently startled out of their dreaming state. He is simply talking, throwing belongings into bags and not even aware that he is not making any sense until Dean grabs his arm and turns him around to meet confused green eyes, stops him for a moment, tells him to slow down and start again, so that they know what he is saying this time.

He begins again, slower this time, as though talking to a child, saying that they need to leave, that half of Michael's army is on it's way and that this place is the target. He knows that they are going to put up a fight, knows that they are going to say that they need to evacuate as many people as possible, and he has to stress that _there is no time_. None, they need to get out now, because as soon as the other angels arrive it will not matter that Sam and Dean unknowingly helped them get to this point, it will not matter that Dean is the righteous man and Castiel is the brother that they used for their own purpose, if they are here, they will be killed.

Dean argues and Sam pulls faces and any other time Castiel would be trying to talk them around to his point of view, any other time he would be patiently explaining it to them in terms that they could understand, the human method of communication being far more limited than the angelic method and that is something that he has been aware of since the day that he pulled Dean from Hell. This day, however, he does not have that luxury, none of them do, and he can feel the angels drawing ever closer, they are not so much moving slowly, rather they are marching, baring down upon this place with all of the menace that a group of several hundred men and women filled with the light and soul of a warrior of the Lord can be.

On the air, then, there comes a sound, a noise that makes both of the brothers flinch, the distant sound of an angelic battle cry, and Castiel knows that they are out to utterly destroy this town, to leave nothing more than half burnt buildings and perfect bodies staring at nothing but the sky in awe and horror and death, but they will give a warning, one that no humans other than the hunters he is with are capable of understanding. Understand it they do, that faint cry that has the brothers clamping their hands over their ears and faces contorting in pain that is just this side of agony. It achieves what Castiel's simple words could not, it has them packing their bags and racing to the car, driving from the motel.

They do not leave in silence, not like the usually do, as Dean drives through he keeps his hand against the horn of the car, the sharp sound blaring through otherwise quiet streets, trying to wake as many as possible to make them alert to the danger. Another shout from the angels, closer now, tells Castiel that his efforts will be in vain, still, he admires the hunter for trying, even though the resigned expression on the man's face tells him that he does not really believe it will work either.

Dean picks up the speed, stops trying to warn people and simply drives and it is no longer Castiel who is afraid, the scent of it is thick inside the Impala and Castiel knows that it is time for him to stop standing idly by. It is time for him to seek out Raphael, it is time to find a way to stop Michael. It is time for answers.

SPN

Michael is one of the highest of angels, the leader of them all, the one who hears the Lords orders and puts them into practice. What very few of the angels know is that he stopped hearing the words of his Father many, many years ago, that now he is merely trying to interpret what his Father would wish. Somewhere on the edge of his awareness, he knows that is wrong, knows that he should not try to guess his Father's wishes and wants, because he has never been able to in the past, but he is weary, weary of waiting for Him to return and weary of taking second place to the humans.

He has never once considered the thought that he might be agreeing with Lucifer, whom he always despised after his little rebellion, never once considered that his frustrations were the same thing that sparked the Morning Star's heated words and desperate battles.

He knows that others of his kind find this difficult, that they fear that killing the humans, even though the order comes from Michael and therefore from their Father Himself, will bring His wrath down upon them anyway. Others simply do not wish to do it, find mankind fascinating and would rather study them in peace for a hundred years before deciding whether they should be wiped out or not. Raphael is the most vocal of those.

Michael has a great deal of respect for Raphael, there are not many angels who can see all that they have, who can know the truth about their Father and yet remain absolutely true to their own nature. Michael blames man for Lucifer's fall, blames the creation of man, more even that Lucifer's pride, for the loss of a brother he once allowed himself to love almost as much as his Father. Raphael simply believes that Lucifer was misguided, opinionated and wrong, that humans are beautiful in all their flaws, an example he sets with his choice of vessel. Michael thinks that choice misguided, fears that if left to continue thinking about what is being done, another brother will turn on him and be lost.

Usually this would not be of concern to him, brothers and sisters have fallen over the millennia and he has mourned none of them, is not capable of mourning them, he has not feared their fall, but if Raphael were to turn on him it could be a disaster, could decimate his ranks, because Raphael is charismatic, as much as an angel can be among his kind, he is open and well liked among the host, his word carries a great deal of weight even though he has never seen the face of the Father as Michael has, he has heard the word and that is almost as much of an honor.

So he is to be kept busy. Michael knows that the tasks he has set him are all but impossible, there is no way that Raphael will be able to wipe the existence of these towns that they have culled from the memories of every human who ever knew of them. Beyond that, however, he knows that Raphael would not, would think less of the healing angel if he _did_ find a way to accomplish it, but needs to keep him busy and out of the way so that he cannot interfere until it is too late.

That is when he feels it, even above the feeling of the host at his back, of their grace and power and sheer overwhelming belief that this is the right thing that they are doing, he feels the pulse of a shattered grace and looking to his left he knows that Raphael feels it too. Castiel is here and where Castiel goes, his humans seem to go too.

For Michael, this changes nothing, this town will still be levelled and if Dean and Sam Winchester have to die along with it, so be it, they have outlived their usefulness anyway and their job is done. Sensing that Raphael is about to leave to warn them, he stops him, orders that he remain, and there is reluctance from his brother, reluctance that causes the petite blonde vessel that Gabriel has taken to frown and even Michael can feel the face of his vessel shift a little but neither mentions it and Rapheal does as ordered, turns blind eyes away from them and up to the skies for a moment.

Michael raises his hand, cares not that the shattered grace is withdrawing, and as one the host cry out, once, twice, three times, and then they are upon the town and the human souls within are rendered to dust.

In it all he can see Raphael on the sidelines, watching, impassive, but there is a crack there, in his grace, and were Michael paying more attention, it would have him concerned. Right now, however, his only concern is this, and he turns all his attention to the task at hand, does not see his brother leave the field.

_**Let your followers know their lives have been sold  
For the good of your sacred lie  
For the truth to be told  
And the plan to unfold  
We must start asking why**_

_Reviews are little Castiels that fly above our heads and mini Deans under the bed. A small Sam in hand and a tiny John by the chair, a review_ _that can show how much you care._

_Artemis_


	2. Chapter 2

_The beginning of this chapter was hard for me to write, very hard. Perversly, the end of it has been floating around on the edge of my awareness and scrawled onto pieces of paper at work since I started to write Haunted (rather like Cassidy was half way through Hallelujah). It's possible that there won't be a chapter tomorrow night, not because I won't get it finished, but because it is one of my best friends birthday and we're going out to celebrate (he'll never read this, but Happy Birthday anyway, Monk!) so I'll have the final part up on Sunday._

_**Don't you know the war is far from over now  
What a stumbling block we've fallen over now  
As our brothers die defending no one  
The war is far from over now**_

Cassidy leans behind the bar, one eye on the television, the other on Peter as he paces the room, cell phone pressed to his ear as he frantically dials and redials Daniel's number. She knows what the outcome will be, knows it in the pit of her stomach, knows that Peter does not want to acknowledge it, does not want to admit the possibility that the worst has happened until he has proof.

Though she tries not to let it show, Cassidy is blaming herself for this, blaming herself for simply agreeing to Daniel's leaving them when they knew so little about what is really happening out there. Her kneejerk reaction to the whole thing was for them to remain uninvolved until the last possible moment, to keep the other hunters uninvolved and just leave it to Sam and Dean to fix it. Daniel, however, is a hunter and they are conditioned, programmed even, to seek out the supernatural and kill it, stop it from hurting others. Even if she and Peter had remained on the sidelines, Daniel never would, and, therefore, it would become impossible for them to stay neutral.

Her eyes are drawn back to the television, to one of the numerous motels in the latest casualty of the angel's war, to the familiar blue car with plates that they know so well and she cannot stop her gasp. Peter sees it too and for him it is the confirmation that he needed, Daniel is gone. All Cassidy can do is stare, eyes wide and heart pounding in her chest, as Peter throws his phone against the wall, upturns tables and chairs and she winces at it all, still not processing what she has seen, what she knows, until he slumps to the floor in the centre of the destruction and she can finally move her feet, finally go to him.

It is as she slips her arms around him that he breaks down, that she sees her brother sob for the first time in her life and even though she wants to join him, wants to wail out her own grief, she cannot, because Peter needs her and she needs to be strong enough to help him. They sit in this way for what seems like an eternity, in the dingy room surrounded by upturned tables and chairs until he pulls away, stumbles to his feet, to the bar and leans over. For one gut wrenching moment she fears that he is reaching for the shotgun until she hears the jingle of the keys to their old red truck. He stares at her for a long moment and is gone.

She does not see him for three days and in that time all she can do is clean up after his rage and grieve quietly as she waits for news, keeping the bar running and doing her best to appear to be her old self. When Peter walks in he is haggard looking, eyes hollow and deep marks around his eyes showing that he has not slept since he left, nor has he shaved, his face coarse and far older now that it is lightly coated in stubble. She moves to go to him and he gestures, the hardness in his eyes a clear indication of his intention.

For the first time in ten years she does as he tells her, waits for him to come to her and there is something in the way that he walks, in the way that he moves, that fills her with dread and despair. This is not the brother that she knows so well, this is someone else, someone eaten by hatred and grief and the need for revenge.

"Call the Winchesters. Tell them we're in, _all_ in," he hisses when he is close enough for her to hear and then he is on the way to the kitchen. She follows him, tries to ask him what he means by that and he turns on her, screams that the man he loves is dead, that he was killed by the one thing out there that he had allowed himself to believe might be good, that he has lost everything and he knows that slaughtering those responsible will not change anything, but the angels will be stopped if it kills him. Then he walks away from her, goes to his room and emerges moments later, bag in hand. She knows what he is going to do, knows that he is going to leave and follow in her father's footsteps and hunt, knows that she cannot stop him.

She does not watch him leave.

Cassidy thinks about what he has said to her when she returns to her bar, about making an open alliance with the Winchesters. She has resources, certainly a great deal more than they do, with a wealth of old books that more than likely contain information she would not know to look for. She has contacts as well, knows the people who own the other hunters safe havens across the country, people with collections like her own, her cousin deals in ammunition specifically designed for the hunting community out of the gas station across the road. Perhaps it is time to stop being neutral after all.

She picks up the phone, listens to the dial tone for a moment before punching in the number, listening to it ring once, twice and then the sleepy sound of Sam's voice as he answers, the roar of a car engine in the background. She tells him what has happened, hears a sick note in his voice when he responds and she knows that they cannot all come here and research if they are going to stop this, so she invites Sam to do it, says that Dean and Castiel will be safe and hears hesitation there. She needs him here, though, the younger one, to make her feel like she is doing something, needs him because he is not strange, is not belligerent, because he is diplomatic and already she is beginning to formulate an alternative plan, one that she will need Sam and his size and his diplomacy for.

It takes a while, but she convinces him, tells him that it is his job to get Dean to agree to it and can almost hear the roll of his eyes, he tells her he will see what he can do, there is no promise there, but she knows that she will see him in a few days.

SPN

Castiel is not sure who is more surprised that they are returning to Cassidy's bar so soon after she threw them out, him or Sam. Naturally Dean argued about it, the man can be quite stubborn when he sets his mind to it and Cassidy had damaged some part of his pride by kicking them out in the first place, but he eventually gave in to Sam's continued pushing and well argued points. The woman is supposed to have an amazing library and she has offered them the use of it, offered _Sam_ the use of it. In the end that was why Dean gave in.

They have decided, after long discussion and more than one argument about the matter, that he and Dean will continue trying to find answers elsewhere, Sam has insisted that he will be alright on his own with Cassidy and as much as Dean worries and wants to keep an eye on his brother, Castiel knows that they cannot afford to let familial concerns and trust issues continue to keep them together. The fate of mankind would now appear to rest fully on the shoulders of the Winchester brothers and their damaged angel. The thought offers little comfort.

He is startled out of his thoughts by the sight of a lone man at the side of the road and the man resonates with the power of an angel. It causes Castiel to cry out to Dean to stop the car as he realises which angel it is, the one angel that he needs to talk to, the one he needs answers from. Raphael.

The inarticulate cry does the job the angel intended it to, causes Dean to slam on the brakes of the car, causing the tires to squeal as they grind to a halt and Castiel is opening the door and on his way over to the archangel before he can even register the angry glare that Dean is sending his way, simply tells them to stay where they are, that is too dangerous for them to follow him and he needs to do this alone, does not know if they even acknowledge it.

It strikes him, as he gets closer, that the way the archangel is standing shows that he has been waiting there for them, possibly for some time, and that unnerves Castiel, that it was so easy for Raphael to find him, to figure out where he will be and where he will go. All the same, he has to speak with the archangel, has to learn what truths he can from him though he can by no means compel him to talk. Still, Raphael inclines his head to him, the barest indication of respect from one much higher than Castiel, and the angel bows a little in return, not as low as he would once have done when faced with such blinding grace, but enough to show that he has not lost all sense of propriety in the face of his current predicament.

"You have come for the truth," Raphael's voice, though powerful, is soft, "have you not, Little One?" Castiel nods, does not trust himself to speak for fear that his voice will betray his eagerness and his aggravation at the name that the archangel insists on addressing him by.

To his amazement, Raphael speaks, tells him that the things he knows, the things he has seen his brothers do, is a burden upon his soul, one that he wishes to rid himself of that he might focus on the tasks he has been given. Castiel does not comment, though a part of him believes that he should refuse to hear this confession so that the archangel can begin to experience some measure of the anguish that he has. He allows the archangel to continue, arms limp at his sides, still not really sure what to do with them when he is not using his hands.

He does not know everything, Raphael is eager to admit that, to admit that he does not wish to know everything and that he has not been privy to all of the things that Michael and Gabriel will have discussed with each other to bring all of this to pass. He _was_ there, however, when they all met with the garrison leaders to find an angel suitable for their purposes, an angel low enough that it would not be easy for him to catch wind of their plans, one low enough that such an accomplishment would draw attention to him and one who was low enough that a personality as forceful as Dean Winchester's would have the inevitable effect, that if the man wanted it enough and was persuasive enough, that angel would disobey.

Castiel wants to ask why, wants to ask if it was so important that Dean kill Lucifer that they sacrifice one of their own to ensure it is achieved and it seems that Raphael understands that because he answers them unasked. Tells Castiel that they needed one who would not question to lead Dean down the path, that they needed to keep Dean on the run and desperate so that he would not realise that killing Lucifer would hand the world over to the angels. Once that was done, it would simply be a case of taking it. Raphael had not considered that it would mean slaughtering his Father's favourite children, had believed that they would be free to bring peace to them all over time, admits that he has been a fool and says that Castiel's grace and Zachariah's death was marked by Michael as the 'unfortunate casualties of war.'

It makes something snap in the angel, makes him demand to know if Seraphiel, the sister who gave her life to save him, and Katie, the woman who was taken by Lucifer, were also "unfortunate casualties". He discovers from that question, that Seraphiel was placed as he was, too low to be a concern except that they knew that she experienced enough in the way of human emotion for her to know how they react to captured friends, they knew that she would follow that example. As for Katie, she was a damaged woman, beaten by her fiancee and easy manipulated once Seraphiel was gone, a calculated risk and one taken to force Dean into killing Lucifer.

Now that Castiel knows the truth, that he was chosen, not because he showed promise, but because he would be easy to manipulate he almost wishes that he did not, almost wishes that he had remained ignorant of it all. He is certain, though, that Michael intends to exterminate mankind, to reduce them to little more than slaves to his brethren.

He insists that they should stop it, that they should work together to prevent Michael from destroying their Father's work, cannot help the feeling of impotent rage that fills him when Raphael tells him that he will not, that even though he knows that it is wrong, that he does not need to be told it when Castiel hisses it into the night air and for the first time, Castiel sees the gentle archangel display wrath, blind eyes narrowing with it as he speaks, voice low and menacing, seeming to suck the very air from Castiel's lungs.

"What would you have me do, Little One? I have my orders, we _all_ do. Would you have me disobey as you did? Your continued existence is not secure, Castiel, nor is that of the Winchesters. If Michael even _suspects_ that you are trying to turn me, trying to turn others of our kind, against him he will have you all killed," he seems to sense Castiel's response, makes his reply before it can be voiced. "It matters not what he offered you in that field after the death of our fallen brother, he made that offer because he foolishly believed that you would wish to return to the loving embrace of those who tortured you. I am not so foolish as our brother, Little One, and I am not so deceived as you." He shakes his head and is gone and Castiel can breathe again as he starts to understand.

He begins to understand how Dean felt in the green room, begins to understand his frustration and anger, because he never once considered Dean's position in all of this, Dean's point of view. Now he has, now he does and for the first time he is glad he has gone through everything that he has, even the torture and fear and pain, because it has given him something precious, a chance to chose his path, a chance to do the right thing and the ability to see it all from both sides.

This is how he knows that Raphael is not angry, his is afraid and somehow Castiel needs to find a way to turn that to his advantage.

_**Liberation, a moral charade  
For the cause is a part of your sacred lie  
Damnation a moment away in all the world's eyes  
It's the doom of us all  
We give in to control for the sake of your sacred lie  
Complications abound  
You'll get used to the sound of alarms in your life**_

_Reviews are little Castiels that fly above our heads and mini Deans under the bed. A small Sam in hand and a tiny John by the chair, a __review_ _that can show how much you care._

_Artemis_


	3. Chapter 3

_You know, I'm a genius! I got this done so quickly that I can upload it the night before, edit it and post it before I go out, so even though I said Sunday, you get it today! Anyway, this brings this little jaunt to an end and it will be taken up in Land of Confusion. Thanks again to readers and reviewers, the bright points of my day, and I hope to see you at the next one._

_**Don't you know the war is far from over now  
What a stumbling block we've fallen over now  
As our brothers die defending no one  
The war is far from over now**_

Sam thinks about the things that Castiel has just learnt as they finally arrive at Black's Bar. Somehow all of this is not all that surprising to the youngest Winchester. Unlike Dean, who wanted to trust the angels and believe them almost from the beginning, almost because he was just as sceptical at first and Sam really does not know when or why that changed, Sam could not bring himself to trust, could not bring himself to like them, even Castiel to begin with, because they were cold, distant and so unlike the angels that he had been raised to believe in. Even after incident with Father Gregory in Providence, Sam still wanted to believe and the way that the angels were ripped that from him.

As things with Ruby progressed, as his need for the demon blood grew, although this is a need that he knows will never really go away, something he will be tempted by for the rest of his life, Sam had begun to think that it was the blood he was ingesting that was causing him to dislike the angels so much and, by turn, them him. Turns out he was wrong and that is just like a kick in the teeth really, because maybe if he had listened to his instincts in the first place, maybe if he had not trusted Ruby so blindly, they would not be in this mess now.

So he blames himself a little, or a lot, and no matter what Dean and Castiel say, no matter how much of the blame they try to shoulder for themselves, Sam knows that at the end of it all it was his crappy choices and his blind need for revenge that tipped the balance, because he can tell himself as much as he likes that it was a combination of alcohol and grief that started it, anger that continued it and desperate need that brought it to the attention of his brother and his brother's angel, but at the end of it all, Sam knows that really it was his own weakness and his own blind stupidity and even the angels and Ruby cannot be blamed for that. Between them they knew exactly which buttons to push and they all did the job better than he thinks they ever could have dreamed.

Sure, he knows that not all of the fault is his and that he does not have to work himself into the ground to fix it, but there is little more that he can do other than research and try to find answers. The thing of it is, they only have two weapons that are guaranteed to kill an angel and Sam cannot hold either of them for a prolonged period of time. Castiel was surprisingly understanding when he told Sam that it was probably due to the demon blood that is still within him and will never leave. Sam almost does not want to believe that, except that he experiences the proof of it each time he reaches for the bow, the sword or even the little knives they attached angelic arrowheads to.

So he does what he can and when Cassidy greets him with a hug he knows that it is not because they are close, it is simply because she does not need to be strong around him, for the simple reason that they do _not_ know each other and she has nothing to lose by showing him her grief, only really has something to gain from it. Dean and Castiel are not greeted in the same way, but strangely that does not bother his brother, who has that speculative look on his face that Sam as only rarely seen there before and never bodes overly well for the younger brother.

Dean and Castiel stick around for a few days and while they are there, Cas helps Sam with the research while Dean talks to other hunters and, sometimes, helps Cassidy behind the bar. During the day they discuss Cassidy's plan. Talk about the fact that they need to get as many hunters on their side as possible, they need weapons, they need allies, this is too much for three people, for _four _people, because it would seem that when Cassidy had said she wanted to help them on the phone, she actually meant that she would help them.

Under any other circumstances, Sam would find that suspicious, but the with death of the man who was all but her brother-in-law and the fact that she is concerned that it has pushed her brother off the deep end, she has told them that she is going all in so that she can protect what remains of her family and that, well, that Sam can get behind, because he has been there.

After a few days, however, Dean is beginning to get itchy feet, wants to be out there looking for answers and people willing to help them and while Sam is no less eager for the same, desperate to correct the mistakes he made that have lead to this, he also wants to stay because aside from Bobby, he has never known someone with the resources at her fingers that Cassidy has. Dean is reluctant to leave, he always is worried about leaving Sam on his own these days, what with the whole demon blood thing and then Lucifer and all. Cassidy persuades him that it is for the best, however, that if they are going to reach all the people that they need to, they will need to split up anyway and Sam still has more work to do here.

So Dean leaves, makes Sam promise that he will call if he finds anything, or if anything changes, and just glares at Cassidy, a glare that promises a world of hurt if anything should happen to his younger brother. It is not that Sam does not appreciate the fact that Dean wants to protect him, it is just that he is long past the point where he needs it, has made enough stupid mistakes and been on his own enough times that he does not _want_ it anymore. Cassidy shrugs it all off, however, utterly unconcerned and Sam supposes that she sees this all the time anyway.

It is when they are both huddled together one morning, pouring over a pair of books and expanding their most basic of plans, while Dean is out hunting for allies, Sam is searching for answers. Even though they need help, they need allies, Sam does not think that just having more hunters to help them is going to cut it at all. They need more than hunters if they are going to win this, they need angels, even the fallen ones because these books have told them something that Sam knows Castiel dared not to. Given the contents of said books, Sam does not blame him.

Paradise cannot come to the Earth while it is as densely populated as it is, only ten thousand souls will make it, and unlike the beliefs of many, God and His angels are not about to descend from on high and select the most worthy, the angels are going to systematically destroy mankind until only those ten thousand remain and they do not care who they are.

SPN

Raphael allows the words that Castiel said on the side of the road to replay through his mind. This is dangerous, seeking out the one who has turned his back on his brethren, though the archangel does not understand how Michael can be angry about that, does not understand why Michael expected Castiel to be _grateful_ that the offer was made, only knows that he was angered by the lower angel's refusal, although his leader would deny that he experienced such an emotion.

They have begun to increase their strikes, have moved to Britain now, a place where the hunters are far fewer and far more thinly spread than they are in America, of course there are places in the world where they are fewer still, but Michael has other parts of the Host dealing with those. The only reason they have come here is that he wishes to check up on the angel that he has left in charge of this, lost contact with him a few days before and rather than considering the possibility that a rogue demon or fallen angel may have slipped through their net and killed Katzfiel, Michael has given in to that paranoia that has gripped him since Castiel's true defection from their cause and assumed that the angelic swordsman has abandoned the cause.

When they find Katzfiel and the remainder of his garrison they are holed up in a barn on the middle of nowhere. All are in varying states ranging from mildly injured to dead. The injuries are not the normal sort caused by hunters, with their primitive weapons which lack the elements necessary to harm angels. Raphael has only seen injuries like this once before, in the first Great War, they were difficult to heal then and will be harder still now, when the angels have been left without the ability to touch their grace for several days, the poison which comes from the blood of the fallen flowing through their veins and the cuts, bruises and broken bones inflicted by weapons which were once heavenly and have now been turned to the requirements of Hell.

So Raphael has turned his attention to the injured garrison, finds that it stops the doubts and the questions that have haunted him for so long to be doing this, to dedicate himself the to _preservation_ of life once more rather than the taking of it. Raphael has his own cohort of angels, other healers who help him with the injured angels in the barn. Were he capable of emotion, the healer archangel knows that he would be experiencing worry and fear at this point, but he does not experience such things, so he ignores the way that his soul roils in the vessel as an impossibility and continues to treat the sick and injured.

As time goes on the worst off die and he whispers a prayer for them as they pass from existence. There is no Heaven waiting for them, no Hell either, nothing, simply emptiness and nothingness, angels die and they cease to be. Of them all, those who do not or will not recover, Katzfiel holds on for the longest, clinging to existence until he can build up the strength to utter the name of the one who has done this, Astaroth. Raphael had known that she had managed to get out of Hell, managed to reach Lucifer's side, but had thought that she had been killed when Lucifer had. It is a horrible surprise to find that she was not.

It is Katzfiel's last act, the angel dies in Raphael's arms, and for the first time he cannot bring himself to mutter the prayer over the shell that once housed his brother, he merely stands, tells the others of his cohort to continue with the sick, that he has to speak with Michael, Michael who has turned his attention to a city of humans in the north.

When he gets there, many are already dead, all that remains is a small number of children and their adult guardians. Raphael knows better than to expect that Michael will leave the children alive, even if they are all innocent. It does not stop him from asking the archangel to spare them. Michael is impassive as he looks at him, asks if they will have this conversation every time they cull a town, if Raphael really believes that these children will be better off trying to fend from themselves in a world which will only grow more hostile the more towns that are exterminated and people who are killed.

He does not respond, simply watches as Michael orders the death of these young ones, tries to keep his face as blank as Michael's, tries not think of what is being done, of the innocence that is being lost. Focuses, instead, on the information he has received, begins to pass it on to his brother, when he is cut off by a voice that is both strange and far more familiar than it really should be.

"Well, and I thought _I_ had reached new levels of depravity," it is Astaroth and even though she is held by two of his brethren, her eyes still have that red glow and her smile is satisfied. "I never thought I would see the day when an _archangel_ would be ordering the slaughter of innocents. Our Father would be _proud_, Michael." A third angel approaches from behind them, a blade in his hand that, even at a distance, emits the twisted sense of grace that shows it was once a holy blade. Michael takes it, turns it around in his hands and just seeming to try and get a feel for it even though Raphael can sense the discomfort it causes him.

Astaroth laughs at that, laughs at the fact that it is clear that Michael intends to kill her with her own blade, then turns her eyes to the healer, asks him why he is there when war, battles, were never the place for him, when he is too gentle to desire the deaths of so many. He looks away, knows that some of his discomfort must show on the face of his vessel and not willing to let Michael see how close to his own doubts she has struck.

Fortunately, the fallen angel does not get the opportunity to say anything else, Michael gestures and she is forced to her knees before he delivers the killing blow. Raphael feels her death, as he has felt the death of every angel that has been killed since this war began, and though he knows that she would not have welcomed it, he offers a prayer to his Father for her passing.

The clatter of the blade hitting the ground startles the archangel and he hears Michael command the two who brought Astaroth forward to take the body away and destroy it, he no longer has a use for it. Blind eyes fall on the sword, a blade tainted by the death of hundreds of angels and the hands of a demon. He knows of one who would have a use for it, but to take it, to give it to that one, would be to betray Michael and all the Host. He hears the order for them to move on to the next place, for another to be appointed to finish the work that Katzriel started in Britain while Michael and the rest of his share of the Host return to America.

Raphael picks up the blade, because he wants Paradise for mankind, he really does, but he does not want it at the expense of blood on the hands of the Host, at the expense of the wrath of his Father should He ever return. There is one with a use for this blade, and one who will be able to make many others like it. Raphael will not watch as this continues any longer.

He has made up his mind, his allegiance now lies with Dean Winchester.

_**Give us a moment of peace in our lifetime  
Give us a moment of peace right now**_

_**Don't you know the war is far from over now  
What a stumbling block we've fallen over now  
As our brothers die defending no one  
The war is far from over now**_

_Reviews are little Castiels that fly above our heads and mini Deans under the bed. A small Sam in hand and a tiny John by the chair, a review_ _that can show how much you care._

_Artemis_


End file.
